Spend any time working in first-line IT support and you discover pretty quickly that about 30% of humanity is, and always has been, irredeemably unhinged.
Also, that this 30% isn't confined to any gender, class or socio-economic group. The unhingedness doesn't discriminate.
Doing first-line was the point I realised things like Star Trek could never be the future IRL. Because they presuppose a drift to rationality. Never happening
I'd say at any given time an additional 15% of humanity are completely open to being unhinged.
As long as it appears to deliver reasonable outcomes for themselves or family, or the thing people are being unhinged about seems popular.
The survival and prosperity of both our species and nations has always depended on the hinged keeping the redeemably hinged from finding the unhinged cool and beneficial.
Unfortunately, globally we've been failing hard at that for at least 20 years now.
Bunch of reasons for that. But there's no doubt the explosion in the ease of communication has played a huge part.
When the good burghers of Hartlepool hanged a monkey for possibly being French, at least they didn't have Facebook or r/frenchmonkeys to post to, unfettered.
If you grew up in Britain in the 80s, you grew up listening to Bob Hoskins telling you that it's good to talk.
Turns out you were wrong on that one, Bob.
The issue is that a form of induced demand exists for unhingedness.
It's not that the sensible people are silent, it's that any effort to increase the signal creates new capacity for noise.
No idea how society fixes that. But louder good people isn't it.
Let's talk about Simon. Ship's cat for HMS Amethyst. Survivor of the 1949 Yangtse Incident and the only cat ever to be awarded the Dickin Medal, the animal equivalent of the Victoria Cross.
Simon was born on the streets of Hong Kong, most likely sometime in 1947. His early life was spent scavenging for food in the dockyards.
This was how he met 17 year old Ordinary Seaman George Hickinbottom of HMS Amethyst, when the ship stopped there to resupply in early 1948.
Hickinbottom was rather taken with the young malnourished tuxedo kitty, and decided that Amethyst's lack of a ship's cat needed addressing.
To avoid the possibility of disagreement with this plan, Simon was smuggled aboard under his tunic, past the watch.
Boris Johnson's press conferences/committee appearances make a lot more sense once you accept that he will literally say whatever he thinks will get him out of the room quick enough.
There's no grand plan to the shite he spouts in front of a camera or committee.
His staff's sole goal with their briefing notes is to try and channel him into making as few promises, and spouting as little bollocks as possible, before he makes his hasty exit.
It's why he visibly reverts to grumpy eton schoolboy mode the moment a follow up question is asked.
He gave you his hopefully distracting answer already. HOW VERY DARE YOU make him have to try and think of another one, delaying his exit even longer.
Since I seem to be in a tunnels Twitter mood today, here's a picture I grabbed of the Tunnelers' Memorial in France.
It's relatively hard to find, but is near Bethune. /1
It's somewhat obscurely located, because it sits above the place where William Hackett of the 254th Tunnelling Company died, earning a posthumous Victoria Cross.
Hackett was part of a mixed team that were working on a tunnel gallery when a German counter-mine exploded, bringing the tunnel down on the men inside.
After 20 hours of frantic digging, those outside the blast range managed to dig a tiny tunnel through to the trapped survivors.